Falling for Her Soldier: A Perfect Kisses Novel (Entangled Bliss)

by London, Ophelia

  “Shhh,” Ellie complained.

  Jane pulled a sympathetic grimace. “Sorry. Rough night?”

  “The roughest,” Ellie said without offering further explanation, then walked toward her office. She’d only been in there a few minutes when there was a knock on the door.

  “Can I come in?” Jane’s head peeked through the crack.

  “Sure.”

  She wandered in, hands behind her back. “So, what’s up, boss?”

  “Nothing.” Ellie stared down at her nails. “Just tired.”

  “You’ve been on cloud nine all week, and now it looks like you just lost your best friend…which can’t be the case because I stand before you in the flesh.”

  Ellie kept her eyes down, knowing if she were to look up, there would be another burst of tears. She was done crying over this, done crying over Charlie. One night of tears was more than he deserved, more than any man deserved.

  Sam had called her twice last night and left a voice mail. He’d rambled on for a while about it not being Charlie’s fault and some promise one of them had made, but after a few seconds, she’d deleted the message.

  “I’m fine,” Ellie finally answered, putting on her game face, the same one she’d worn after the injury…and after her mom died. “We’ve got a busy day, right? Let’s get to it.”

  “It’s the last Thursday of the month,” Jane said. “I have one class, and you have nothing.” She sat in a chair across from her. “So, do you want to tell me why someone who calls himself Charlie but sounds suspiciously like Hunter has been phoning here every five minutes for the last hour?”

  Ellie looked up, feeling hopeful for the tiniest of seconds. Until she remembered. “I have his car,” she said, feeling pissed off at herself all over again. “That’s why he’s calling. He wants it back. Probably afraid I’ll breathe on it wrong.”

  “Why do you have his car?”

  Ellie picked at a cuticle for a moment, then sighed. “Because Charlie Johansson is a lying jackass.”

  “Ahh.” Jane nodded sagely.

  “Yeah…there’s that.”

  “What happened?”

  So Ellie filled her in, right down to how she’d practically tackled Charlie in the sand trap. She did not, however, vocalize how broken her heart was, although that was probably obvious.

  Jane touched her hand. “Did you two…?”

  “No.” Ellie sucked in her lips and bit down. “But we almost did, like, ten times.”

  “That’s self-control for you. Good thing you had your no-dating rule, right?”

  “Yeah, good thing.” Ellie scoffed and folded her arms.

  “Then I guess it’s okay to give you this.” Jane held out a scrap of paper.

  “What is it?”

  “Phone message. Or messages, I should say.”

  “Jane.” Ellie groaned. “I don’t want to talk to him. He can call here all he wants but I’m not—”

  “It’s not Charlie. It’s Drew.”

  Ellie blinked. “What?” Why in the world would her ex be contacting her after a year?

  “He said you blocked his number on your cell, and this was the only other way he knew to get in touch.”

  “What does he want?” Ellie wondered aloud. “Did he tell you?”

  Jane hesitated but then nodded. “He said he’s sorry. That he’s changed.”

  “Ha!” Ellie couldn’t help snorting sardonically. “That’s rich. What is it with men all of a sudden? Why’ve they all jumped aboard the I’ve changed, baby bandwagon?”

  “He sounded sincere,” Jane added. “I think he was dying to talk about you. He kept going on and on. Are you going to call him back?”

  “No,” she said firmly. “I forgave Drew a long time ago, but I haven’t forgotten.” She sank deeper into her chair, her spirits sinking, too. “I don’t think there’s such a thing as a bad boy reforming—it’s a fairy tale,” she added, mostly to herself. “Anyway, I’ve got so much going on right now. The fund-raiser’s tomorrow night. We advertised the tango so I have to find another partner.” She looked down, feeling new tears, clenching her jaw so they wouldn’t spill out. “I can’t believe I fell for it. I knew what he was and I walked straight into it anyway.”

  “What exactly did he lie about?” Jane asked.

  Ellie couldn’t help scoffing a laugh. “Everything.”

  “No, he just didn’t tell you his real name. Don’t all military peeps call him Hunter? Didn’t you meet him at the WS? How else would you be introduced to him there?”

  “He was lying, Jane,” Ellie said, exasperated. “There’s no way around it. Technically, it was a lie of omission, but still. His name—that’s a pretty big fact to omit.”

  “I’m not saying he didn’t lie, I’m saying he didn’t lie about everything. Let’s think about it for a second. He e-mailed you with information about Sam and you struck up a friendship online. If what he told you yesterday was true, he wanted to date you when he got home but knew he couldn’t because of Sam, so he stopped writing.”

  “Well, that’s just mean.”

  Jane shrugged. “Men are severely mental about things like that.”

  Ellie clenched her eyelids shut and swallowed. “Yeah, they are.”

  “So Charlie stopped writing,” Jane continued, “and a month later, he came home and was hanging out at the WS when this smokin’ hot redhead sashayed in.”

  “I can’t sashay anymore because of my knee.”

  Jane rolled her eyes but kept going. “And he was introduced to you as Hunter…at the WS. Who introduced you?”

  “Sam,” Ellie said, recalling those weird looks shooting back and forth between the two men over the past few days. She also remembered all the things Hunter seemed to know about her…things she assumed he’d learned from Sam. But no, it was the e-mails.

  “Why, is the question,” Jane said, tapping her nails on the desk. “Why would Charlie rather meet you as Hunter—a guy he knows you wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole even with a condom on the end—and not the e-mailer, Major Hottie?”

  “Staff Sergeant Hottie,” she couldn’t help correcting.

  “He’s got the rep as a big player, right?” Jane asked. Ellie nodded. “Yet you said you didn’t do stuff.”

  “We did some stuff,” she said, trying to recall the events impassively.

  “Did he ever try anything?”

  She bit her lip. “I did most of the trying.”

  Jane leaned back and scratched her chin. “Hmm, don’t you think that’s a little atypical? If he’s such a player, why did he stop before he got what he wanted?”

  “I don’t…” She swallowed. “I don’t know.”

  “Did he lie about anything else?”

  Ellie had to think. She’d been to his home, seen all those family pictures. He’d made her waffles, and they’d shared two burgers. That night on the golf course, he’d told her about that last mission in Afghanistan, even confessed that he’d never talked about it with anyone, yet he’d shared it with her. And they’d danced together under the stars. He’d held her so gently, and even when she’d wanted more, he kept them from going too far…because she’d told Charlie in an e-mail how important her goal was, and he was helping her achieve it, no matter the cost.

  “I don’t know,” Ellie admitted, her chest tight and achy. “I don’t think he lied about anything else.”

  “Can you give him the benefit of the doubt?”

  Ellie tried to swallow, but couldn’t. She could only shrug miserably. “I don’t know what was real and what wasn’t,” she said, choking on her tears. “But whatever his reason is, it was still a lie.”

  “One lie.”

  “Okay, fine, one lie.”

  “You can always forgive him for that.”

  “What?” Ellie balked. “Is there ever a reasonable excuse to lie?” It sounded rhetorical, but Ellie was really asking. “I’ve suffered the consequences of dishonest men for years,” she added. “How can I be expected
to forgive Charlie? Is he any different?”

  This was rhetorical, because, of course, Ellie already knew the answer.

  “Anyway, I can’t think about him. I have to get to the WS.” She passed the silver key ring to Jane. “When he phones again, tell him to pick up his car whenever.”

  “Will you call me later?”

  “Sure.” She glanced at the scrap of paper on the desk. “Drew was always a pretty good dancer, wasn’t he?” she said, mostly to herself. “Maybe he’s a quick study.”

  …

  “You suck.”

  “I’m aware,” Charlie said, rubbing his forehead.

  “And now she’ll never speak to me,” Tess said from behind the steering wheel. “Why did you drag me into this?”

  Charlie glared at his sister. “Why do you care? It’s not like you’ll ever see her again.”

  “I liked her. And I might need a ballet teacher someday.”

  Charlie groaned. “I don’t know what to do. I’m such an ass.”

  “A super-ass,” Tess corrected.

  “Fine, a super-ass. Does that help?”

  “No, but it’s nice to hear you admit it.”

  He groaned again and beat his head against the headrest. “Super-ass,” he muttered.

  After Sam had driven Charlie home last night, Charlie had called Ellie’s cell at least ten times. She never answered. Then he’d tried to sleep, but his mind wouldn’t shut off, and the ache in his chest wouldn’t go away. Finally, he’d wandered into the kitchen, but all he had in the fridge was Ellie’s leftover brown sugar syrup. Everywhere he looked, he could see where she’d been. So finally, he’d laced up his Nikes, grabbed his earbuds, and took off for a run. Why did it seem like every other song on his iPod was Elvis?

  “Which way now?” Tess asked, idling at a four-way stop.

  “Straight then to the left up there,” Charlie directed glumly. “It’s halfway down the block.”

  “What are you going to say to her if she’s in there?”

  “What can I say? I don’t know how to apologize for something like this.”

  “You better try,” Tess said, then took the left too sharply; she’d always been an aggressive driver, out to punish her passengers. Charlie felt plenty punished. A few minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot. Tess gazed up at the hot pink insignia. “Who is Anastasia?”

  “Ellie’s mother, Stacy,” he said. “This used to be her studio before she passed away. She and Ellie ran it together.”

  Tess grunted as she rotated around in her seat, and stared daggers at him.

  “What?” he asked, flinching back a few inches.

  “Apologize to her,” she said in a demanding voice. “Now get out.” She turned away from him and muttered, “Super-ass.”

  Charlie felt like a super-ass, so he didn’t bother arguing. He just thanked his sister for the ride and climbed out of the car. As he passed by his Impala on the way into the studio, he couldn’t help noticing the seat was pulled closer to the steering wheel. Which reminded him that Ellie had been driving it…which made his heart ache like hell.

  He paused outside the front door and ran a hand over the top of his head, smoothed down his shirt. He didn’t know what he was going to say to her. He would apologize, of course—he had no intention of being an even bigger super-ass. He would explain everything, starting with how touched he’d been when she’d e-mailed those pictures of the Franklin High football field three months ago, how grateful he’d been for their early friendship. He would tell her how beautiful she was, inside and out, and how he’d become a better man simply by knowing her.

  After all that, he would get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness. He would promise her anything, give her everything, spoon-feed her hot fudge sundaes in bed every morning for the rest of his life, then dance a jig to damn Michael Bublé with bells on.

  If she’d only forgive him.

  After a deep inhale, he pulled open the door.

  Jane was behind the front desk. He glanced past her into the studio. About a million pigtailed girls were running around inside the room, but he didn’t see Ellie. He probably shouldn’t barge into her office. Maybe he should wait up in the second-story bay. He could wave and get her attention. Yes, good plan.

  “Hey.”

  Charlie jumped and snapped to attention. Jane had come around to the front of the desk and was glaring at him, hands on hips.

  “Come for your car?”

  “Hi, Jane,” Charlie said. “How are you?”

  “Me? Oh, I’m just peachy. Except that my best friend is all upset because, you see, she met this really cute guy who she thought was a big jerkwad but he was sweet and claimed he’d changed his jerkwad ways, so she gave him a chance but it turns out he’s an even bigger jerkwad. That’s how I am.” She pursed her lips. “How are you?”

  “Not good,” Charlie said, lowering his head. “She’s still upset?”

  “Still? It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. Of course she’s upset. You lied to her.”

  He nodded, his head still lowered. “I know. I hate myself for that.”

  “And then vile Drew called and she’s gone off to see him and—”

  “Drew?” Charlie cut in. “Her ex?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He called? When?”

  “Yesterday,” Jane said, folding her arms. “I gave her his messages this morning. I wasn’t going to, but then someone had to be a jerkwad.”

  Charlie felt like he was about to come out of his skin. “She’s with him now? Where are they?”

  “I have no idea.”

  He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “How long ago?”

  “You missed her by ten minutes.”

  He felt sick.

  “Look, you stupid jerkwad, I was on your side.” She got right up in his face. “You better figure out how to fix this, and it better be huge. You really screwed up.”

  “I know.” He put both hands over his aching chest, breathing hard. “I just feel…I feel—”

  “What? You feel what?”

  Heartbroken.

  When there was a high-pitched squeal, Jane looked over her shoulder. “I have to teach a class,” she said. “But you better show up at the fund-raiser tomorrow night.”

  “I doubt she wants me there.”

  “Maybe not, but at least give her the pleasure of throwing you out.” She tossed him his car keys. “Jerkwad,” she muttered.

  He climbed into the Impala, adjusted the seat, and reached for his cell, about to call Mackenzie for advice. But she would only yell at him, too. He’d already been called a super-ass and a jerkwad this morning. Mac had a much fouler mouth. He didn’t need that at the moment. What he needed was Ellie.

  What he needed was a plan.

  He started the car and drove for a while, not sure where he was heading. He couldn’t go to the WS. He couldn’t go see Tess. He didn’t want to go home…the ghost of Ellie was everywhere. When he got to an intersection in the middle of downtown, he idled for a moment, then hung a right, the tires screeching as he picked up speed, racing down the road.

  Rick was seated behind his desk when Charlie barged in. “Hey, man, what’s—”

  “Do you know what happened?” Charlie asked, out of breath from his sprint from the parking lot.

  Rick frowned. “Yeah. Tess told Mac. Sorry, dude. I shouldn’t have had your name in any of the press releases. That was my mistake, I wasn’t thinking—”

  “No,” Charlie cut in. “It’s my fault, all of it.”

  “You okay? Want to call Mac? She’ll probably just cuss you out, but…” He shrugged. “Sometimes that helps.”

  “No,” Charlie said. “I have a question for you. How many local news stations are there?”

  “Two.”

  “Including Indianapolis?”

  Rick tapped his forehead in thought. “Five.”

  “Five,” Charlie repeated, rubbing a hand over his chin, while running the
ludicrous plan through his head one last time. “Rick,” he said, placing both hands on the desk and leaning forward, “I need a huge favor.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ellie swept her eyes over the room that was now bedazzled floor to ceiling. She and about twenty volunteers had been setting up and decorating since before the sunrise, but finally, the WS was polished and ready.

  With less than an hour before the doors would open, she rushed home to shower and change. While standing in a towel and blow-drying her hair, she kept eyeing the two black dresses hanging outside her closet door. She still didn’t know which to wear. Both were appropriate for a black tie event, but the backless halter-top number with the long slit was the show-stopper. It was what she’d planned on wearing before…

  She turned off the blow dryer and wandered to the closet, holding up the long black dress by the hanger. So what if she might not do the tango tonight. Did that mean she shouldn’t wear the pretty dress? She didn’t know if she could do it. It felt heavy in her hands. Ellie eyed the other option, the short, classic, safe LBD with spaghetti straps and no flair. Then she sat on the bed and tried not to cry.

  Thirty seconds later, she peeled off her towel and grabbed the dress she knew she had to wear.

  …

  “Is that new?” Jane asked, taking a sip from her long-stemmed flute.

  Ellie felt like she should strike a pose, but didn’t. “I’ve had it for a while, just haven’t had the occasion to wear it.”

  “Well, it’s stunning. Nice slit.”

  “Thanks.” Although she wasn’t completely comfortable in it, Ellie was glad she’d gone with the flashier gown. She owed it to herself. Tonight was about putting on a great event—saving the WS and nothing else.

  Chick alerted her that the last table had sold an hour ago. At least they had the money to pay the rent next week. Additional expenses would have to come from other donations. Which worried her, especially after what Rick had said about the future. Luckily, with so much to do tonight, she didn’t have time to stress about the future.

  “Where’s Chick?” she asked Jane. “He knows he’s doing all the MC-ing tonight, right?”

  “He’s over there.” Jane pointed toward the “stage” area of the room. “Talking to the guy setting up the microphones. He seems really into it. He’s so funny.”